believe or die

When the fictional world colonises the real world, magic can happen.  No, it isn’t just lying; it’s something else entirely.

A fictional world, yet familiar . . .

Let’s start at the beginning.

The way my mind works is, at times, painfully logical.  Infuriatingly logical, if you ask friends and family, with no room for compromise unless those compromises are just as logically presented.

Then there are the other times.

For example, when I first announced my crusade for didacticism, my plan was to present first the clearest arguments for, and the clearest examples of, before working my way outwards to show that, at its essence, everything is a lesson.  That would have been logical.

Instead I got inspired, and then it didn’t matter what was logical any more, I only knew that I had to show you this thing, and I had to show you why I thought it was great and interesting, and then I had to think about why I found it great and interesting, and in the end it all came back to teaching and learning.

OK, watch it now.  It’s long enough to eat with, and a better lunch partner than most.

When Nico grows up and realises he probably didn’t talk to a real whale, he’ll be reminded of a beautiful childhood memory.  What he probably won’t realise is that by perpetuating myths of faith, such as Father Christmas, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, or [insert preferred fictional figure from your faith tradition here], he’s actually helping himself, and society.

Take justice, for instance – or Justice, if you like.  Way back when, such concepts were understood as real things of substance, truly existing somewhere we couldn’t see them.  The phenomena we experienced were simply reflections of those forms.

Nowadays, we can believe in concepts without having a potential physical manifestation somewhere; we can believe in Justice for Justice’s sake; we can believe in Goodness for Goodness’ sake.

We can believe in Father Christmas for Father Christmas’ sake.

Because if a child can believe in keeping a pet whale in a fjord in Norway, maybe as adults we can believe that somewhere out there, there really is Truth, and Love, and Justice, and Law, and everything else that lifts us out of our primal instincts.

Where would we be if we didn’t truly, firmly believe in those?

Emblem Black (2)


how do you stay relevant?

If you’re dynamic, you’re moving. You might be moving forward or you might be moving back, but if you’re not dynamic, you’ll be irrelevant pretty soon.

Julian Stodd’s advice to listen to “stories of dissent” can be adapted to many situations.

When i’m asked “how will we know if an organisation is Socially Dynamic“, my off the cuff answer is that it will be able to hear stories of dissent. Perhaps i should add, “and it will recognise that it can learn from them“. Too often, stories of dissent are driven out of earshot, hidden, or […]

via To Hear Stories Of Dissent — Julian Stodd’s Learning Blog

i’d like to know what she bases these predictions on, but having never thought about it before, i have to say i thought it very interesting – a clear winner for PoE in the ‘longest-title’ category

by Lauren Sapala About ten years ago I worked for a startup that launched a social media site for published authors. This was the first place where I really started to meet writers and come in contact with people in the industry. In the spring of 2008 one of the topics being bantered about […]

via The Future of Books: 3 Audacious Predictions for the Next 20 Years — A Writer’s Path


Nice tips here, but the thing I love most is David’s passion. You can just feel how much he enjoys writing.

It got me thinking this early morning and I think that’s excellent. I’ll be back to read the other parts presently…

Mystery Thriller Week

Welcome to this lesson of David Kummer’s writing course. That’s me, by the way. If you have any questions, comments, concerns, success stories, or just something fun to say, email me at I’d love to talk about anything and everything, especially if that everything has to do with books, basketball, or Chinese food. I am a teenager, after all. So that’s that! Head on down and read what might be the best writing course of your life, but also might be the worst 😉 You won’t know until you try!

View original post 1,334 more words

be in my club

I just read on a literary devices website that didacticism is very old hat.

The word is even pejorative in most literary circles.

I can’t believe it.  Especially in light of what I wrote BACK HERE on how much Stephen King’s The Talisman meant to me.

So I decided.  I am on a quest to BRING BACK DIDACTICISM.  Sure, there are clumsy, awful ways to do it, but there are also wonderful, subtle, genuinely life-changing, genuinely world-changing ways to do it.

Good enough for this guy; good enough for me.

If you’re a writer, there’s nothing more worthwhile you can do than teach your readers something real.

Is there?

Well, no matter what happens, I’m going to push the merits of didacticism until the wheels fall off.

Watch this space to see how crazy it can get.

Emblem Black (2)

its enough

If you’re like most people, you probably think that any span of time less than one hour isn’t enough to start anything really meaningful, and like most people you would be wrong.

I challenge you today to do THAT THING.  You know, THAT THING that you’ve been meaning to do for ages but never got round to doing.

Do you have half an hour?  You can take a sizeable chunk out of the THING in that time.  Do you have ten minutes?  Why not do a test run so that you’re prepared when you come to do the THING later?


found the pic on; couldn’t find the author 😦

. . . and that’s that.

Just a quick one – I’m super busy right now but I thought I’d drop you all a line to say that, unfortunately, the book deal died.

So close to the finish line!

It was a couple of weeks ago now that Royal James Publishing announced they were closing up shop, effective immediately.  I guess I should have seen it coming: other publications went to print with mistakes; I frequently had to correct factual information regarding my own book; the NOVEL I reviewed tells a story of its own of the kind of publishing house that would represent it.

But I was willing to let all of this go, everything of which I slowly became aware, because they were going to put my work out there.  That fact came to mean less and less as I saw the quality of some of the other stuff they published, but still . . . it was an important milestone for me.

On the other hand, the milestone hasn’t disappeared – it’s where it always was: in front of me.

I’ve got what I believe to be one of my best works slowly (oh, so painfully slowly) taking shape, and the optimist in me says that this one, this one for sure, is going to be read by more people than myself and my long-suffering friends.

Apologies for boring post.

As you were, ladies and gentlemen.

Emblem Black (2)